


even something as pure as water

by shellybelle



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Established Relationship, Gratuitous Inner Monologue, Gratuitous Metaphors because Derek Nurse is a huge nerd, M/M, Topping from the Bottom, basically this is filthy and i'm so sorry, blink-and-you'll-miss-it self-feminization? maybe?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 09:39:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9650051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shellybelle/pseuds/shellybelle
Summary: Derek’s never been good at finding the boundary between just enough and too much. He doesn't plan to start now.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Nursey Week](http://nurseyweek.tumblr.com), Day 3: “Overindulge or Challenge.” 
> 
> I made it two days into this week without writing porn and I feel I should be commended for this. Also, this is filthy and I'm sorry.

 

_“An over-indulgence of anything, even something as pure as water, can intoxicate.”_

\- Criss Jami, Venus in Arms

 

 

Derek knows he has a problem with restraint.

 

It comes from being raised a rich kid, and he owns that--his parents raised him humble, appreciative of what he has, but they never held back on the luxuries, either. He’s pretty sure his baby food was some gourmet, high-end shit, that the birthday cakes he had even as a little kid were rich and decadent, the kind that came in paper-thin slices, delicate and gorgeously iced.

 

He remembers being six, maybe seven, and eating a whole box of chocolates his Mama had brought home, a gift from one of her clients. He’d crept into the kitchen, hours after he’d been put to bed, and climbed up on the counter, pulling the box down from where Ammi had tucked it on top of the fridge, well out of his reach. 

 

Sitting on the floor of the kitchen in his pajamas, he’d eaten every piece, too young to appreciate the silken texture of the chocolate, the way the subtle flavors of the molten cores would slide across his tongue, bitter-sweet-deep-warm. 

 

All he’d gotten for his trouble had been a sick stomach and a gentle scolding. “I don’t suppose you learned anything from this, mijito,” Mama said, tucking him back into bed in the morning, when he’s too nauseous and miserable to be sent to school. “About self-control, maybe? Mm?”

 

“No,” he’d said, drawing the blankets back up to his chin, and pouting up at her. 

 

She’d clucked her tongue and smoothed his blankets, and he’d fallen asleep, belly aching and the taste of chocolate still lingering on the back of his tongue.

 

He gets a little better as he gets older--learns, at least, to recognize what he’s tasting, what his parents’ money pays for. He learns to taste the difference between $10 and $100 wine, the subtle differences in flavor and texture and body, the way a more expensive body will finish without the tight, acidic tang that always clings to the cheaper options. He learns to hold a chocolate in his mouth and let the flavors dissolve on his tongue, slow and sweet.

 

The one thing he never quite learns is when to stop. He doesn’t learn it with food--and thank fuck he’s been in athletics since he was old enough to walk, because otherwise he’d be _fucked_ , thanks to the sweet tooth he inherited from his mother. He sure as fuck doesn’t learn it with alcohol, expensive or otherwise, which is why Nursey Patrol is a regular fixture of kegsters.

 

And, well--

 

“Ah, fuck,” he breathes, sinking down onto Will, so slow, so fucking slow. “Ah, fuck, _fuck_.”

 

Will, spread on his back and pinned to the bed by Derek’s weight over his hips, lets out a shaking breath, looking up at him. He always looks at Derek like this when they’re in bed together--half-lidded and dark-eyed, intense and fixed, like Derek’s something to be worshiped. “Jesus, Nursey,” he rasps. He drags his hands up Derek’s sides, long fingers circling around his ribs. 

 

Derek grins at his expression. He rolls his hips, a lazy, indulgent motion. It changes the angle, and as he slides back down, pushes Will deeper into him. Will loses his breath on a groan. 

 

“Fuck,” he says, voice rough, breathless. He lifts one hand, splays it over the center of Derek’s chest.

 

“Yeah,” Derek says. He spreads his knees a little wider and rests his weight on one arm so he can pick up the other, taking Will’s wrist and bringing his fingers to his mouth, slipping one, two of them into his mouth. 

 

Will chokes out his name, hips hitching up, and Derek hums around his fingers, closing his eyes. Savoring. He tastes the sharp-salt tang of sweat, the faintly bitter-sweet slick of pre-cum, still wet in the creases between Will’s fingers. He darts his tongue there, chasing the flavor. Will groans, says “ _Derek_ ,” and pulls his hand free.

 

Derek lets him, looking down through his lashes in a pout. “Thief,” he says. Breathless, half-teasing.

 

Will shakes his head, lips curling. He puts his hands on Derek’s hips, rolling into him, and Derek tips his head back, arching his back to get him closer, deeper. The sound that leaves him is something between a groan and a sigh. 

 

“Fucking shit, that’s hot, Nursey.” Will’s voice is sex-drenched and hoarse, and Derek smiles, pleased. He rolls his shoulders, letting the praise sink into his skin like an ocean breeze, like a lover’s breath, like incense in a brazier. “God, fuck. Take it so good.”

 

Derek hums a soft agreement. He takes in a shaking breath, using his abs to curl forward, bending until he can press his mouth to Will’s, deep and wet. Someone moans, the sound lost between them, but he feels the vibration in his lips. 

 

The feeling sends sparks of yearning prickling along Derek’s skin, a sensation of _not enough_ , and he pulls his mouth away, pushing himself up again, exhaling hard at the feeling. “Gimme the lube,” he says roughly. 

 

Concern flickers through Will’s eyes and he stills the slow roll of his hips, reaching for the bottle on the nightstand and flipping the cap. “Am I hurting you?”

 

“No.” Derek doesn’t elaborate. He takes the bottle from Will and then drizzles a generous amount into his palm. Setting the bottle down again, he pulls Will’s right hand into his and sets to slicking up his first two fingers.

 

Will’s brow furrows. “Nursey,” he says, confusion slipping through the haze in his eyes. “What…?”

 

“I want,” Derek says, and hesitates. The _wanting_ languishes in his veins, hot and silken, but saying it seems wanton, greedy. He bites his lip, unable to help the curl of pleasure in his gut when he sees Will’s eyes track the motion, and then draws Will’s lube-slick hand down, low, to where their bodies are joined, until he feels the jerk of Will’s hips when Will’s fingertips must brush the base of the condom.

 

It’s not subtle. Will’s eyes, already lust-dark, blow darker. “Jesus fuck,” he says. “Jesus fuck, you want me to--”

 

“Will you?” 

 

Derek’s a lot of things, but he’s never been shy about asking for what he wants, when it comes down to it. And Will, for all his usually reliable determination to argue, rarely seems to bother doing so in bed.

 

“Yeah,” he says now, his gaze fixed on his hand where it’s caught in Derek’s, dragged down between them. “Yeah, _fuck_ , I--”

 

He shifts, and the next time Derek moves his hips up, Will presses his finger in alongside his dick as he rolls slowly back down. “Ah, shit--” he bites the words out through gritted teeth, dropping his chin down and tightening his grip on Will’s wrist, the fingers of his other hand digging hard into Will’s shoulder.

 

Will stops. “Too much?” 

 

The concern’s cute, sweet even, but Derek shakes his head. “No. No, I can take it.” He bears down, exhaling, and Will slides deeper. “Yeah, God.” 

 

He rolls his hips again, careful of the delicate angle of Will’s wrist, and Will subtly adjusts his shoulder and elbow, quirks a grin at him when he’s a little stabler. Derek laughs, shakier, and drives his hips down harder this time. It’s a lot, God, it’s so much. 

 

It’s so, so much, and he wants more.

 

“Gimme another one,” he gasps.

 

Will doesn't. He keeps moving, but doesn't give Derek more, and he whines, soft and needy. “Nursey,” he says. The wanting is still splayed over his face, open and flushed, but it’s mixed with uncertainty now. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

 

“You’re not gonna.” Derek squeezes his wrist, then lets it go. Will strokes a second finger against his rim, and Derek shudders, but Will still hesitates. Frustration dances along his nerves. “C’mon,” Derek coaxes, rocking his hips. “C’mon, I can take it. I want it, Will, c’mon.”

 

Will’s lips shape his name like a prayer, and he lifts his free hand, curling it around the back of Derek’s neck. “C’mere,” he breathes. Derek leans down, lifting his hips up as he goes, and fits his lips to Will’s as Will presses in and _oh_ \--

 

“ _Fuck_.”

 

“Good?” Will exhales the word against his cheek, and Derek can only nod, gasping, too full to talk, to moan, to breathe. Shuddering, he pushes another messy, open-mouthed kiss to Will’s mouth before pushing himself back to sitting, letting gravity drop him back onto Will’s fingers, his dick. 

 

It’s hot in the room, the shitty dorm heating turned way too high. Derek feels hot and languid, sweat pooling at the base of his spine. The sunlight filtering through the blinds is a burnt orange-red, darkening Will’s whiskey eyes. 

 

His body feels stretched, almost too far, but in the best way, heated and heady. Will’s looking at him with something like awe, and he feels dizzy, oddly powerful.

 

In high school, he’d written a poem on the power inherent in sex, in the act of being penetrated. He’d spent hours researching ancient goddesses of sex and fertility, drinking in stories of rituals drenched in sunlight and sweat, in candlelight and semen, in moonlight and blood. He feels like one of those deities now, the rush of his blood pounding in his veins, hot and sweet as ambrosia. He feels like he could take all of Will into him, could swallow him whole.

 

The thought makes him shudder, and Will grins up at him, lazy and confident. “Yeah,” he says. “Close?”

 

Derek nods, swallowing, moving. He’d gotten there without realizing it, his body tightening, tension coiling inside him. “Please,” he breathes.

 

Will smiles indulgently and gives him what he wants, rolling his hips up and pressing his fingers deep, and Derek catches his breath on a gasp. “There you go,” Will murmurs. “There you go, come on. Come on. C’mon, Derek.” 

 

He shakes out a groan and comes like that, untouched, Will’s voice in his ear, Will’s fingers and cock stretching him open. The orgasm hits him hard, and Will tilts his head back as Derek’s come tags his chest and throat. “God, fuck,” Will hisses, his free hand clenching on Derek’s hips. “Nursey, I’m gonna.”

 

“Please,” Derek says again, like it’s the only word he knows. Will groans, pushing into him hard and shuddering, pulsing. Derek shivers, suddenly resentful of the latex barrier between them, and rides Will through it. Fuck the sensitivity, the overstimulation, he _wants_ this. 

 

He’ll regret it tomorrow, he knows, just like he always regrets that last drink, that last piece of pie, that last bite of a well-cooked meal. He always regrets it, when he feels the after-effects of pushing himself too far, of never knowing when to stop--or just refusing to. 

 

Will jerks through a last aftershock and then relaxes, his shoulders collapsing down against the pillow. “God,” he breathes. He opens his eyes, and his lips twitch. “Good?”

 

“Yeah.” Derek licks his bottom lip; his mouth his dry from gasping. Will eases his fingers gently free--Derek can’t help his wince--and wipes them on the sheet, then curls both his hands over Derek’s hips. He squeezes gently, and Derek lets himself sink down, dropping his ass back and his chest down to Will’s. 

 

Will grunts slightly as Derek drops his weight onto him, but it’s a fond sound, and he wraps his arms around him, trailing his fingertips through the sweat on Derek’s back as he kisses his cheek. “Jesus,” he says, almost reverent. “That was fucking intense.”

 

Derek manages a soft, breathless laugh. He feels fucked-out and loose, _good_. “Yeah.”

 

“What, uh.” Will clears his throat. “What made you…”

 

Derek lifts his head so he can look at him, pushing a hand through Will’s sweat-damp hair. “I don’t know. I just wanted more.”

 

Will lifts one eyebrow. “What,” he says, sliding a hand down and squeezing Derek’s ass. “I’m not enough for you?”

 

“Shut the fuck up, you know you’re hung.” Derek leans down to bite his earlobe. “It was just a thing, whatever.” He bears down, though, flexing internal muscles, and Will’s breath hitches. “Don’t act like you didn’t like it.”

 

The flash of Will’s grin is the only warning he gets before Will rolls them, a smooth burst of coiled power and lithe muscles. Derek lands on his back, Will still half-hard inside him, deep and warm. “I never said I didn’t like it,” Will says, leaning down to murmur the words against his neck. 

 

Derek chuckles, lifting his head to lick a drop of his own come from Will’s throat. “Good.” 

 

Will huffs out a laugh of his own as Derek drops his head back down, running his thumb over Derek’s bottom lip. “God,” he says, pupils wide. “Never fucking enough for you, is it?”

 

“You know me,” Derek says. He drapes his legs around Will’s waist, pulling him deeper. “Never satisfied.”

 

“No,” Will murmurs. “I guess you’re not.”

 

He curves a hand around Derek’s jaw and bends his head to kiss him, slow and deep and wet. Derek wraps an arm around his neck to hold him close, rolling his hips up, and swallows Will’s groan.

 

Maybe this is why they fit so well together, he thinks, as Will’s hands travel over his body, Will’s tongue tracing along his own.

 

Will always seems hungry, too.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact, my creative writing thesis advisor in undergrad told me I had a "gift for dialogue" and no one in this fic has a line longer than like 4 words that doesn't include the word "fuck." AH HOW THE MIGHTY HAVE FALLEN.
> 
> Follow me on tumblr @geniusorinsanity for more of...this. and other stuff. but there's a lot of this.


End file.
